A Game of Fate (Hades Saga #1)(15)

“We went to war with Triad, Hermes. It could happen again. Do not underestimate mortals desperate for freedom.”

Hermes narrowed his eyes. “It sounds like you sympathize with them.”

Hades met the god’s gaze and answered as he always did, “What is evil to one is a fight for freedom to another.”

He had said it before, and he would say it again. The problem he had with Triad was the innocent lives they took with them during their fight.

“Do not let your hubris blind you, Hermes.”

This time, when Hades started toward his chambers, the god did not follow.

As soon as Hades was inside his room, he sighed, pressing his fingers to his temple. It had been a long time since he had had a headache, but this day was endless. Hades crossed the room to his fireplace and finished off his whiskey. He stared down at the empty bottle, contemplating the day’s—yesterday’s—events. He had bargained and murdered and tortured.

All things he was certain his future wife would disapprove of.

Future wife.

Fucking Fates.

Hades threw the bottle, and it shattered against the black marble wall.

I am going to have to stop breaking things when she gets here, he thought, and then scolded himself for sounding so…hopeful.

He sighed angrily and started toward his bed, loosening his tie. His eyes had started to burn. He needed sleep. In a matter of hours, he had to be up again. He had another important appointment to make. This one in his own territory, Iniquity, an exclusive club where the worst of society gathered under his protection and rule.

Just as he pulled back the covers, a knock sounded at the door.

“Go away,” he said, thinking it had to be Minthe.

Instead, Ilias’s voice answered.

“Oh, I think you’ll want to hear this, my lord.”

Hades sighed. “Yes?”

Ilias entered, arching a dark brow and smiling wryly. “No rest for the wicked. The woman from last night is outside Nevernight fighting with Duncan. He has placed his hands upon her. You had better hurry.”

Hades could not describe the feeling that overcame him, but it was like everything inside him had frozen for a second—his blood did not rush, his heart did not pump, his lungs did not expand.

As quick as the ice entered his veins, it was gone, replaced by red-hot fury.

“Why didn’t you say something sooner?” he snapped before teleporting to the entrance of Nevernight.

On the other side of the door, a familiar voice threatened, “I am Persephone, Goddess of Spring, and if you would like to keep your fleeting life, then you will obey me!”

Hades threw open the door. He felt frantic until his eyes settled upon the goddess, and then he was stunned.

She stood on the lackluster sidewalk, beneath the too-bright sun, stripped of her human glamour. White kudu horns sprouted from her wild hair, and despite their height, he couldn’t help thinking how petite she appeared. He liked seeing her this way. It felt intimate somehow, because he knew he was seeing her. This was Persephone, the goddess who would be his queen, and she was everything.

She did not meet his gaze, but her eyes were definitely on him, trailing his frame with an intensity in her expression he couldn’t quite place but wanted to understand.

Despite feeling as if he had no control over his body, his emotions, his magic, he composed himself as best he could and spoke.

“Lady Persephone.” Her title felt heavy on his tongue, and at his words, she met his gaze, and again, he was startled by her bright eyes—as wild as the rivers of Tartarus and as green as the Asphodel Valley. Something changed in her composure when she looked at him. She straightened her shoulders and lifted her chin.

“Lord Hades.”

She addressed him formally and offered a sharp nod. He was not sure what he did not like about it—the fact that she had used his title, or her ceremonial body language. He frowned but could not think long on the subject, because Duncan drew his attention.

“My lord.” The ogre sunk to his knees and hung his head low. “I did not know she was a goddess. I accept punishment for my actions.”

“Punishment?” Persephone echoed. She crossed her arms over her chest as if she were uncomfortable with the idea. Hades gritted his teeth, the same fury that had overcome him in the Underworld blazed again.

“I laid my hands upon a goddess,” Duncan said.

“And a woman at that,” Hades added unhappily.

Duncan had it wrong. His impending punishment had nothing to do with the fact that he had touched someone of Divine blood—it was that he had hurt a woman. Hades was not tolerant of violence against women or children. In fact, he hated it so much, there was a special level in Tartarus for those responsible of such crimes, and their punishments were doled out by the Furies themselves, the three feared Goddesses of Vengeance, Nemesis, the Goddess of Retribution, and Hecate, who took it upon herself to personally punish abusers.

No human or humanoid was excused, whether in Hades’ employment or not.

“I will deal with you later,” Hades promised. “Now, Lady Persephone.”

He stepped aside, making room for her to enter Nevernight. She did not hesitate like he thought she might, entering the darkness of his club like she owned it. He shut the door behind her, and for a moment, they were trapped together and the scent of their magic twined and overwhelmed. Hades recognized the rigidness in Persephone’s stance, because he had gone just as still. Her reaction relaxed him, probably because he found hope in the idea that he affected her in the same way.